


Air Conditioning

by boygenius



Category: Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Roof Sex, misuse of air conditioning units, super suit porn, upside down blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9428669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boygenius/pseuds/boygenius
Summary: Maybe he should fuck him in weird positions on the top of random apartment complexes more often, even though it made him all sentimental and shit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday!

“You look like something out of a low budget superhero porn.”

Tim’s heels dug into the AC unit he was hanging upside down off of, Kon’s TK holding his ankles in the inevitable event of a mind-shattering orgasm that would make even Tim relax for half a second. His shoulders rested on the top of the vents that curved out of the unit, and Kon was helpfully keeping him there by pinning his arm to the vent with his boot. And hey, that was just optimal positioning to fuck Tim’s face and Kon was all about opportunity.

As much as Kon loved seeing his lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks ruddy, throat working, he was really into having Tim stretched out and compromised in front of him. Defenses down just like Kon would do for him, even if Tim wasn't creepy-scary and probably wielding kryptonite half the time. Maybe he should fuck him in weird positions on the top of random apartment complexes more often, even though it made him all sentimental and shit.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” he said, bracing his hands on either side of Tim’s knees and snapping his hips forward. Tim made a minute choking sound and Kon paused, only to be rewarded by a bird flipped in his direction. He snorted and slammed his dick as deep down Tim’s throat as he could. Even the boy wonder couldn’t steel himself against that, and his whole body did a pretty little squirming twist that made Kon want to hold him down and kiss every inch of him.

He was amazed at what Tim let him get away with sometimes, although he suspected he would get his cum-up-pants one day, with interest.

Kon’s belt and jacket lay behind them in a heap but Tim was still in full uniform, a fact that affected Kon a little more than he really wanted to give thought to. He traced shapes, featherlight into Tim’s thighs with his fingers and smirked when Tim’s hips twitched.

“Think I can make you come like this? Make you shoot off in your cute little uniform, send you home pretending it didn’t even happen.” Tim was careful, and Kon didn’t expect him to make a peep quite yet. But he was panting around the cock in his mouth and shifting his weight on his shoulders little by little, like he didn’t want Kon to notice. 

“Yeah, I bet I could make you come without even touching you. Get you off just on sucking my dick, just on fucking your face.” Kon didn’t like reading his friends so easily, but sometimes shit happens and he knew it when Tim’s heart rate kicked up double time and he stopped breathing. Kon dug his thumbs into Tim’s hips and pulled back.

“Breathe, Robin.” Tim was looking up at him with narrowed eyes, trying to frown and look stern but the effect was ruined by his swollen lips, and the jizz and spit on his face. His mask was painted with a stripe of precum and the image of Tim doing superhero porn returned to him, now in glorious Technicolor. Kon rolled his eyes.

“I know you love sucking my cock, but try not to make it the last thing you ever do.” 

Tim scowled and ground out something that sounded like, “Prick.” But his voice was so wrecked Kon couldn’t be sure.

“Uh huh. You mind disarming your tights so I can fuck you?”

“I think you deserve to be electrocuted at this point.” Tim curled up off the vent and started tapping out an indistinct rhythm on a seemingly inconsequential spot near the top of his boot. There was a click and a hiss, and Tim lowered himself back down. 

Kon hooked his arms under Tims’ and released his TK, rearranged him and stripped him to the waist. He bent him over the top of the air conditioning, pausing to admire the pride showing through the tilt of his hips and the looseness of his shoulders.

Tim gripped the edge of the unit and spread his legs, arching his back up off the cold metal paneling and glared at Kon over his shoulder. Kon gave him a big, glittering smile and slapped his palm down on his ass. It earned him a scalding look, like when Kon ignored formation on a mission, or when he got cum in Tim’s hair.

It took him a hot minute to get the lube outta his jacket, and another to pray there was some left in the bottle. Somebody must have been listening, maybe God, the Subaudible, or Freddy Mercury - whomever presided over teenage boys fucking was beyond Kon-El’s realm of ability to give a shit.

“You remembered the lube? Guess always thinking with your dick pays off sometimes, Superbrat,” Tim drawled, thumbing Kon’s cum off the corner of his mouth. Kon pulled the tights off his ass and shoved two slick fingers inside of him, and Tim shut his mouth so quick his teeth clacked together.

“You gotta learn how to shut up, wonder boy.” Tim arched up into his touch and Kon trailed kisses down his spine, dragging a breathy laugh out of him. 

“You’re so fond of shutting me up yourself. Really gets you off,” he groaned, flexing his shoulders and stilling when Kon pulled his fingers out of him. “Eager much?”

Kon scowled and hiked up Tim’s leg, his fingers curled under his knee so Tim had to come up on his toes to keep the edge of the unit from digging into his hips. “Riddle me this, how’re you so smug bent over an air conditioning unit?”

“Just special like that,” he said, and Kon wished he could see his eyes under the lenses of his mask, lashes fluttering and all that blue swallowed by the black expanse of his pupil. Kon wanted every proof that the great Tim Drake was fucked up over him, so maybe they could be close to even.

At a teeth-grinding, molasses-esque pace, Kon pushed an inch of the way into him. He waited until Tim suspected he was just taking his time and being a dick, and grand slammed the rest of the way. Tim’s boot scraped the ground as he lurched forward, curling up and into the AC unit. Because he was a nice guy, Kon waited a beat before pulling mosta the way out and snapping back in. He used a fraction of his strength to fuck Tim into the surface of the AC unit, appreciating the way he rocked back and forth.

“Oh my god, Superboy,” he gasped because even with Kon balls deep in him, God forbid he break the secret ID protocol.

“Yeah?”

“This the best you got?” Tim’s hair was all messed up and flopped in front of his face, his fingers gripping the edge of the air conditioner, but when he looked over his shoulder his mouth was quirked up and begging the challenge. Any notion towards niceties Kon might have had vanished and he shoved Tim’s face down into the cold metal siding. His shoulders still skipped with silent laughter, a toothy smirk half hidden from view.

He was careful, always careful, because he knew even Tim’s meticulous defenses and perfections couldn’t hold up against the basic brute strength Kon was endowed with. That said, he allowed himself a couple more inches on his figurative leash in an attempt to fuck Tim’s brains out.

Kon ran his hands up Tim’s thighs and his sides, he fitted his fingers around his hips and pulled him back onto every off beat thrust. His face got hot at the prospect of the whole city being able to hear Tim scream himself mute, but Tim was careful too, even more careful than Kon could ever be. With one hand, he gripped the edge of the AC unit. With the other, he covered his mouth and sealed off any sound that would have reached the world below. Bummer. Necessity. Synonyms.

Kon came first, choking on Tim’s name because sometimes Robin’s paranoia reached even him, and he chose safety over not sounding like someone afflicted with bronchitis. Tim chuckled, and for that Kon slammed into him one last time, shoving him into his prompt and irritatingly silent orgasm.

“You totally came without me touching you,” Kon said a few minutes later, fixing his hair and snapping his belt back in place.

Tim reengaged the defenses on his suit and rolled his shoulders, his posture as proud as someone who had not just been screwed senseless by their best friend. “I distinctly remember you touching me quite a lot.”

“I meant your dick, Rob.”

“Your point?”

“Pretty sure only sluts and politicians get off from just being bent over.”

Tim kissed him. He tasted like jizz and Red Bull, but Kon decided to cut him a little slack and not tease him about it. 

“And what does that make you?”


End file.
